


the safest place i've ever known (is anywhere when i'm with you)

by ifmyheartshould



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25878535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifmyheartshould/pseuds/ifmyheartshould
Summary: There’s a rumbling in her chest when she pictures it; Adora with the sword, destroying every bot with a single swipe and attacking soldiers she was once so eager to lead. It grows louder and louder, tuned to the sound of Hordak’s voice, even now, downplaying her achievements and completely disregarding the fact that he’d have nothing- is nothing- without her. She closes her eyes, tries not to imagine Shadow Weaver in a cell and then by Glimmer’s side, tries not to think about Scorpia or Double Trouble, because it’s all too much. She’s given too much to the wrong people and there’s no going back so she keeps moving forward because to stop is to admit that, that...Catra has lost.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	the safest place i've ever known (is anywhere when i'm with you)

**Author's Note:**

> idk what to say other than:
> 
> it's nice too have a friend by taylor swift was on a loop in my head while writing this
> 
> thank you to my beloved friend pri not just for existing but for encouraging me to write and for being so kind and talented and all around amazing. <3 (ha, you didn't think I would do it)
> 
> anyway i genuinely hope this is at least semi-enjoyable :)

Catra is lost. 

She can count the hours of sleep she’s gotten this week on two hands, and her legs ache in a steady pulse with every step she takes but she doesn’t stop. The tracker pad is glitching and the incessant itch in her eyes is only growing but she’s lost and she’s pushing and pushing, trying to find something,  _ anything _ , to bring back to the horde after another embarrassing defeat.

There’s a rumbling in her chest when she pictures it; Adora with the sword, destroying every bot with a single swipe and attacking soldiers she was once so eager to lead. It grows louder and louder, tuned to the sound of Hordak’s voice, even now, downplaying her achievements and completely disregarding the fact that he’d have nothing-  _ is  _ nothing- without her. She closes her eyes, tries not to imagine Shadow Weaver in a cell and then by Glimmer’s side, tries not to think about Scorpia or Double Trouble, because it’s all too much. She’s given too much to the wrong people and there’s no going back so she keeps moving forward because to stop is to admit that, that...

Catra has lost.

Catra has lost and it’s all their fault. Shadow Weaver, Hordak, Adora- anyone who’s ever doubted her, anyone who’s ever left her, and in the end-

In the end, who is there left to blame? 

All she ever wanted was to prove her worth, to prove she didn’t need magic or a sword or  _ Adora  _ to be valuable. She did everything right, every strategy perfectly executed and every victory well deserved, and yet she has no one. She was never meant to win, that much is clear now.

Suddenly the glitching stops and she’s met with a black mirror. The misery of the past three years hangs low and heavy beneath her eyes, pupils so small she can barely make them out, and her mouth set in a deep frown that quivers as she tries to hold herself together. 

Catra is face to face with a girl she no longer recognizes. She tries to sift through the layers of anger and pain and agony, tries to find the motivation to fight with all she has for what she wants and what she deserves, but finds that beneath it all is a small girl that knows they are not the same thing. 

A growl rips through her chest and into the air as she hurls the tracker pad at a tree, heaving as she watches the face in the glass shatter. Her knees finally hit the ground and it should come as a relief, the lack of pressure on her feet, but it hurts. Everything hurts. Catra wraps her arms around herself, squeezing harder and harder until she’s shaking with the force of it. 

She doesn’t stop until the steady ache of loneliness becomes just another dull pang of familiarity. 

>>>

_ “Adora, go ask one of the other cadets to help you throw out these scraps,” says Shadow Weaver, placing a box filled to the brim with broken chunks of metal into small, chubby hands gripping desperately at the edges.  _

_ “I’ve got it,” she grunts, hefting the box a little higher so that it is no longer digging uncomfortably into her arms while trying to keep her balance. _

_ “Nonsense, Adora. It’s much too heavy for you to do it alone.” _

_ “But I can do it!” she argues, eyebrows low and a determined pout on her lips. “I’m strong now, see?” She holds the box up towards Shadow Weaver and puffs out her chest, tongue poking out at the corner of her lips as she tries desperately to hide the slight trembling of her arms. Shadow Weaver only narrows her eyes for a moment.  _

_ “All right, then,” she relents. “But you have a big day tomorrow so I want you in bed as soon as you’re done.” Adora nods eagerly, lowering the box imperceptibly so as not to alert Shadow Weaver but enough to relieve her little muscles. “Go on now, quickly. There’s a dreadful rainstorm coming.” _

_ “Yes, ma’am. Goodnight, Shadow Weaver.” _

_ “Goodnight, Adora”  _

_ Adora waits until she is completely out of Shadow Weaver’s line of sight before she drops the box with a huff and a loud thud, pushing it across the floor until she reaches the backdoor where the dumpster should be.  _

_ The pin pad is still too high up for her to see, but she moves her finger in a zig-zag pattern to find the right numbers. She reaches up onto the tips of her toes to punch in the pin, stubby fingers accidentally entering the wrong code twice before she gets it right. The door slides open and after a quick celebratory whoop, she bends down quickly and lifts the box into her arms, grunting with the effort. _

_ Adora steps out into the brisk night air, shuddering lightly when a cool drop of rain hits the back of her neck. The sun has already disappeared behind the smog, normally red and hazy, but now with the absence of a yellow glow, a dusty purple and grey. It’s almost beautiful.  _

_ The dumpster is to the left of the door and Adora walks over to it, relieved to find the lid up against the wall. She definitely would not have been able to reach it and open it up herself. As she stands in front of the dumpster, Adora takes a few steadying breaths, summoning every ounce of strength that a five year old could possibly possess to lift the box of scraps over her head and into the dumpster. She nearly succeeds, too, except her legs are still far too short, and so she only manages to tip the box over, spilling all the broken metal against the dumpster and onto the floor.  _

_ For a moment she clenches her small hands into fists, taking in a deep, calming breath, and then- _

_ Then she proceeds to punch the dumpster for its insolence.  _

_ After three successive hits, she takes a step back, narrowing her eyes and looking on indignantly where there should now at least be a dent. Perhaps another time, when her hands aren’t so soft and pudgy. _

_ Adora lets out a defeated sigh before bending down, picking up scraps and throwing them into the dumpster one by one. She reaches below the dumpster, scrabbling for a piece of metal, but withdraws her hand with a startled squeak at the feel of something soft and furry curling into her palm.  _

_ Her heart is pounding as she leans down slowly and is met with a pair of glowing eyes. One yellow and one blue, both narrowed and alert. Adora gasps and watches as the creature presses itself against the wall.  _

_ “Hello?” Adora whispers. “Are you okay? What are you doing down here?” _

_ Silence. _

_ “Do you need help? I can help you.” _

_ More silence.  _

_ Adora has no idea who or what she’s talking to, the creature too hard to make out in the dark, but she’s curious and a little frightened when she sees something swaying between its yellow and blue eyes. _

_ “What are you?” she asks. Adora doesn’t wait for a response this time. “My name is Adora. What’s your name?” Slowly, Adora inches her hand forward, merely centimeters away from the creature’s feet. Before she has the chance to ask the creature to come out of hiding, she hears a hiss met with a quick sting on the back of her hand. _

_ “Ow!” she cries, eyes filling with tears. Within seconds, her pain turns to anger. “You didn’t have to scratch me!” she shouts, “I was only trying to help!” To further her point, she sticks out her tongue and blows raspberries at the creature. _

_ She isn’t expecting the creature to do the same, but then she hears the slobbery mess of bubbles and can’t help the burst of laughter that escapes her. Adora wipes away her tears and watches as the creature’s glowing eyes tilt to one side, curious and amused.  _

_ She clears her throat and tries to soften her voice. “Will you come out now, please? I promise I won’t hurt you. I just want to help.” _

_ For a long moment, the creature simply stares back at Adora, unsure. Then they slowly make their way forward and Adora scrambles backwards, trying to give it space to come out, pushing pieces of metal along the way. Her jaw drops open when she realizes what is sitting across from her and she wonders whether or not she’ll be able to hold herself together.  _

_ The kitten's ear twitches and Adora’s resolve may as well be nonexistent. _

_ “You’re a kitty!” she exclaims, startling the poor cat. Adora giggles at the way her hair stands on end, but sobers up a little when she notices her irritated scowl. “Sorry,” Adora says, watching the way she smoothes her hair down, surprisingly satisfied by the cat’s method of flattening the fur of her tail with a long, single slide of her hand. _

_ “What’s your name?” Adora asks again. She’s met with a blank stare. “Do you… have a name?” she asks hesitantly. When the kitten responds with a small shake of her head, Adora gives her a hopeful smile. “That’s okay! We can make one up!”  _

_ Adora is momentarily distracted by her ears perking up. So cute.  _

_ “Okay, um.. How about Kitty? Because you’re a cute little cat,” she says. The cat simply glares at her again. “What? You are!”  _

_ Adora’s eyes widen when she gets on all fours, taking on a more threatening pose, and hisses at her.  _

_ “Alright, alright. Just let me come up with something else.” she says, trying to placate the hostile kitten. It works, but after six (terrible) name suggestions, the cat seems to give up hope on the little blonde girl with missing front teeth and apparent anger issues, if the way she had tried beating up a dumpster only moments ago was anything to go by.  _

_ She lays low on the ground, a permanent disinterested look on her face as Adora continues listing names. _

_ “Lola!” _

_ A single shake of her head. _

_ “Buddy!” _

_ Another.  _

_ “Lonnie! No, wait! We already have a Lonnie. What about Goldie?” _

_ A blank stare. _

_ “Princess?” The kitten hisses. “No, yeah, you’re right," Adora says, "that was just mean.” _

_ Adora looks down at the kitten’s hands. “Oh! How about Mittens? Because of your cute-” _

_ Before Adora can so much as blink, the kitten is on top of her, pinning her to the ground. _

_ “Stop calling me cute!” she demands. Adora is surprised to hear the kitten finally speak, even more so by the soft and pleasant rasp of her voice, but the shock wears off quickly and soon enough she’s glaring back. _

_ “But you are!” Adora insists. _

_ “No. I’m. Not!” she growls and a single fang comes into view, holding Adora’s attention for a long moment before she looks up slowly. Her eyes flit over to the small freckles at the kitten’s cheeks, scrunched up at her nose, and all Adora can do is press her lips together to stop herself from cooing at the cuteness of it all. _

_ “What did I just say?” the kitten yells and Adora finally looks away, the blue and yellow glow of her eyes just as mesmerizing.  _

_ “I didn’t call you cute!” she yells back. _

_ “But you were thinking it!” the kitten rebuttals.  _

_ “Okay. Fine.” In a moment of pure, unhindered strength, Adora flips them over. The kitten is stunned and mildly embarrassed, her resistance stunted for a moment as a blush heats her cheeks and the back of her neck. “I promise I’ll stop calling you cute if you promise not to scratch me again. Deal?” The kitten struggles for a moment, trying to fight back, but Adora holds firm, a smirk playing at her lips.  _

_ The kitten lets out an exasperated sigh. “Deal. Now get off me!” _

_ Adora sits up with a triumphant smile, waiting for the kitten to cool down. She dusts herself off and scratches at her ear, giving Adora a final, weak glare before allowing a small smile to curl her lips.  _

_ Suddenly, there’s a deep rumble that rattles her bones, and Adora realizes it’s been raining this entire time. She looks over at the frightened kitten who is now clutching Adora’s shirt tightly, ears low and nails ripping through the flimsy material.  _

_ “It’s okay,” she soothes. “Let’s just go inside. We can come up with a name tomorrow, okay?” _

_ The kitten nods as Adora leads her to the backdoor, holding her close even as she reaches up high on her toes to push in the code. They sneak in quietly to the dorm room, Adora insisting the kitten sleep in the bunk with her, beneath the blankets- so they don’t get caught, she says. The kitten doesn’t care about the reasoning. _

_ A bit of mud still clings to the kitten’s fur, damp and sticky with the rain. Adora doesn’t seem to mind, so she curls her tail around a small ankle, purring as Adora sifts through her hair and scratches behind her ear. She doesn’t stop until the kitten’s soft and slack with sleep.  _

_ The next day they wake up hand in hand and Adora refuses to let her go, making a vigorous attempt at convincing Shadow Weaver to let her stay, and holding on even tighter when she says no. Adora begs and demands and promises she’ll take good care of the kitten for the rest of her life, tears pooling in her eyes and a death grip on the hand intertwined with her own. The kitten only holds on tighter. _

_ When Shadow Weaver eventually caves, under the condition that they both go clean up the mess of scraps near the dumpster, the two little gremlins celebrate that night by hiding under the covers, giggling and, in the way children do, loudly whispering their promise to be best friends forever with an earnestness and conviction much bigger than the two of them.  _

_ Adora suggests the kitten take a piece of her name to cement their bond and decides that yes, Catra is a perfect name for this not-cute kitten that insists she is old enough to be considered a cat and, who will never admit it out loud, but secretly enjoys Adora’s possessiveness. _

_ Catra finalizes this with a portrait of the two of them scratched into the side of their bunk with blue and pink markers, immortalizing this moment before snuggling into Adora’s arms again with a contented sigh and the assurance that she doesn’t need anyone or anything else to make her happy. _

_ Not when Adora possesses all the light and the warmth Catra could ever want.  _

_ Not when Adora is everything. _

_ >>> _

The sun is gone when Catra wakes, the trees illuminated by the glow of moss around her. 

She doesn’t know how long she’s been asleep, doesn’t even remember actually falling asleep in the first place. Her bones ache with a soreness that will take more than a few good night’s sleep to relieve. Catra’s head pounds with the reminder that she hasn’t had one of those in years.

Her ear twitches anxiously at the sound of a twig snapping behind her, her tail and each hair rising to attention. She turns quickly, ready for a fight, but all she can see is the shimmering particles of magic floating like dust in the air.

Catra remembers a time she was charmed by their soft glow; a moment where she didn’t despise its enchanting, unpredictable nature, but rather wanted to surround herself with it- to escape the routine of the Horde with a certain nine year old, blonde idiot so they could learn to wield it themselves and live amongst the supernatural. 

A silly wish, but one with many nights of supplication and desperation to its name. 

After a few tense seconds of complete silence, Catra feels the presence behind her once again and tries not to make any sudden movements, hoping to catch it off guard. However, she is the one left stunned and speechless when the creature, small and scaly, circles her feet before plopping down in front of her. Catra only stares. The luminous lizard stares back.

And then it licks its eyeball. Catra shudders and takes a deep breath, finally relaxing her stiff posture. She side-eyes the lizard for one more uncomfortable moment, but it lays low on the ground, head resting on its legs and looking on happily at a mildly perplexed Catra.

It feels… familiar, somehow.

She lowers herself slowly to the ground, hand hovering. “Hey, you,” she smiles, running a finger along its spine as it pushes itself up into her touch. “What are you doing following me?”

The lizard climbs onto her knee, closes its eyes, and then disappears. And yet, Catra can still feel the weight of them on her leg. She reaches out tentatively, softly sliding a finger along her knee, except she feels the scratch of scales against the pad of her finger and all of a sudden her knee has two bright white eyes staring back at her. 

Catra shrieks and staggers backwards, the now-black lizard falling to the ground before reassuming its natural neon look. At least, what Catra thinks is its natural look. It spins in circles a few times before climbing back up Catra’s leg, licking his eye once again. Catra laughs.

She's not sure how much time she spends there, petting that lizard. It could be minutes, maybe even a few hours- she can’t say for sure. But she thinks. 

And she thinks.

She’s thinking, thinking…

Thinking maybe it’s not too late to do the right thing. Thinking maybe… maybe there’s still a chance.

She’s looking down at the small lizard, at the stupidly hopeful smile curling its lips and her heart throbs painfully, the remnants of a repressed memory like shards of glass piercing her chest. 

She can’t breathe. 

Catra can feel the tears coming, hot and heavy with anguish, and it only feeds the rage simmering in her veins. 

Adora was right, she thinks; she made her choice the moment she opened the portal. She can’t take it back now, she has to live with it. 

Adora was right, but..

Only because she had taken that choice from her, the moment she left the Horde.

The moment she left Catra.

And she’d be damned if, after everything, Adora won again. 

She knows if she surrenders now, all that’ll be left to show for her accomplishments- branded not as the result of her effort nor proof of her success, but as the manifestation of her incompetence- will simply be a final affirmation that all she is, and all she ever has been, is a worthless failure.

She’d be damned if she didn’t fight at least one last time to prove-

To prove…

Catra is sprinting. The wind is strong and bites at her skin. It’s not long before she goes numb, where she can barely feel the way the air slices through her, stealing the heat of her tears as they glide down her cheeks, turning them as cold as ice, and she’s grateful because now she can’t feel, can’t think- she doesn’t want to, and the sweet, burning taste of citrus in her lungs distracts her, helps her forget that-

She’s afraid.

Catra’s afraid she can’t justify this any longer.

  
  


>>>

_ “Catra, wait!” _

_ Adora can barely catch her breath. She can’t see Catra, what with all the trees blocking her line of sight, not to mention the way Catra’s been swerving and hiding behind every tree they pass. Adora is starting to regret agreeing to this little escapade into the Whispering Woods.  _

_ Whether it’s because she knows they’ll be in a lot of trouble if they’re caught or because she has definitely lost this race, she’ll never admit.  _

_ “Come on, Adora! You said it yourself, you’re the Horde’s ‘master tracker’. Now’s your chance to prove it,” Catra says. It might be Adora’s own heavy breathing making it difficult to hear the direction from which Catra’s voice is coming from, but she can hardly tell. She stops running when her side starts to burn a little too much and doubles over, both hands on her hips as she heaves in big gulps of air to fill her lungs.  _

_ “Catra,” Adora pants, “Catra, come on! Maybe we should head back before they realize we’re gone.” _

_ “You have to catch me first!” Catra challenges and Adora wishes she could wipe off the smirk that is most definitely set on her face. Instead, she does the only thing a highly competitive child with an over-inflated sense of pride can do, really. _

_ She runs faster.  _

_ Adora’s so overcome with adrenaline and the determination to catch Catra that she doesn’t realize she’s in the deepest part of the Whispering Woods until there are particles of magic occupying the air around her. Adora gasps and skids to a stop, almost falling flat on her face. She regains her balance and is immediately deafened by the pounding of her own heartbeat. _

_ She’s not sure how she feels. There’s dread and the echo of Shadow Weaver’s voice reminding her of the dangers of magic and princesses. But there’s also curiosity in the way that the magic seems to float towards her, following the rise and fall of her chest. She raises a tentative hand in the air, watching the way the yellow specks curl around her hand. It’s mesmerizing.  _

_ Adora looks down at her arm, unsure as to why she feels a strange, almost-sticky weight clinging to her forearm, but all she can see is her own pale skin. _

_ And then, all of a sudden, her forearm is staring directly at her. Adora screams.  _

_ She’s jerking her arm around, horrified at the way it simply blinks up at her, until a green lizard seems to grow right out of her forearm. _

_ She screams louder.  _

_ “Adora! Adora, where are you?” she hears Catra calling from behind her and looks over her shoulder. She’s still not close enough to see, so Adora calls out for her. _

_ “Catra, I’m over here! Hurry!” _

_ When Adora turns back to the lizard, it’s gone. She thinks. She raises both arms, inspecting them for eyeballs and lizards, but too afraid to touch them in case there’s actually something growing there.  _

_ Her breath catches in her throat when she feels a deep rumble at her shoulder, similar to Catra’s purrs but not as soft. Adora turns her head only slightly, body tense with anxiety as she does her best to see through her peripheral. The lizard clings to her shoulder, camouflaging with both the red and white of her shirt for a moment before turning a light green, a near smile on its face as it waits for Adora to realize they are not a threat. _

_ She begins to relax, and the lizard takes the opportunity to crawl down her arm, resting on her palm. Adora breathes out a quiet "woah" as she watches it turn a soft shade of blue. She runs a small finger along its scales, asking the lizard questions it couldn't possibly answer and even deciding to give it a name. She takes a curious head tilt as an unequivocal yes.  _

_ “Adora?” Catra stands beside her now, dropping a hand on her shoulder and looking on worriedly at the way Adora’s hand is cupped around-- nothing. “Are you okay? What happened? And who were you talking to?” _

_ “Look,” Adora whispers excitedly. She takes Catra’s wrist and turns her hand over so that her palm is facing up. “It’s okay,” she says, but not to Catra. “She’s my friend. She won’t hurt you.” _

_ “Adora?” Catra repeats, genuinely concerned that Adora’s lost her mind a little.  _

_ Adora finally looks up from her palm, eyes so soft and bright as she looks at Catra that it’s impossible for her to ignore the way they crinkle lightly with the stretch of Adora's hopeful smile. The fathomless warmth flooding her chest momentarily distracts her and it’s only when Adora breaks their shared gaze that she looks down at her own hand, at the way Adora’s hand is curled around her fingers and-  _

_ On instinct, Catra tosses the lizard into the air before it even has time to fully convert itself from the color of her skin, shrieking and hiding behind Adora who just barely manages to catch them before they can hit the ground.  _

_ “Catra! You could have hurt them!” Adora scolds. The lizard is black now, frightened, so Adora rubs the pad of her finger in gentle circles to soothe it. Soon enough the lizard has gone from orange to yellow to green in a matter of minutes.  _

_ Catra peeks over Adora’s shoulder, looking on in awe at the critter who seems to really be enjoying Adora’s attention. She’s not sure whether it’s jealousy or worry that prickles at her skin, but it dissipates quickly after the lizard gives her a blank stare and licks an eyeball.  _

_ “Ew,” Catra laughs at the same time that Adora ‘aww’s at the lizard’s antics. “What is it?” she comes out from behind Adora, hand immediately clutching at Adora’s free  _

_ hand even as she struggles to look away from the lizard.  _

_ Adora gently squeezes her hand twice, prompting Catra to meet her stare.  _

_ “This is Camille,” she tells Catra, holding the lizard out for her to pet. “It’s okay, Catra,” she reassures when Catra leans away, “They won’t hurt you.” _

_ Once Catra finds enough courage to pet the lizard, Adora can do nothing to stop her from slipping into her usual playful disposition. Adora watches, enraptured, as they chase each other, not the least bit surprised when Catra eventually gets on all fours, tail swaying side to side, daring Camille to make the first move in whatever game Catra’s pulled them into. _

_ Camille leaps into the air just as Catra launches at them. When Catra lands, she looks around furiously, and Adora thinks about letting her know that Camille is sat on her shoulder, but right as she cups her hands around her mouth, Camille sticks their tongue into Catra’s ear. _

_ It’s only for a second, but it’s enough to make Catra yelp and jump out of her skin. Adora tries to stifle her laugh and fails but decides to keep her hand over her mouth for good measure. Catra narrows her eyes indignantly, scratching at her ear with her foot. Adora’s smile grows wider when Camille appears on top of Catra’s unkempt hair.  _

_ It’s at that moment that Catra seems to notice the extraordinary amount of magic surrounding them and she watches in awe as a single particle floats down in front of her, settling on her nose. It tickles and Adora looks on in amusement as her face scrunches up in discomfort. Her head tilts back as she takes in a short breath, and then another, before a sneeze squeaks its way out.  _

_ “Why is there so much dust on this side of the woods?” Catra wonders aloud, rubbing away the itchy feeling with the back of her hand. She looks to Adora who has her hands held out in front of her, looking like she’s trying to catch as much as she can.  _

_ “It’s not dust,” she says. She’s not entirely sure whether she’s imagining it or not, but she feels a slight tingle when it lands in her palms, watches intently at the way it seems to seep into her skin. “It’s magic.” _

_ Adora tries to concentrate on the feeling, closing her eyes and trying to imagine it swirling inside her. She imagines the magic coursing through her hands, following the path the grains of magic take until the tingling radiates up from her palms to the tips of her fingers and then further up her arms and she can literally feel herself vibrating with the sensation. It feels powerful. It feels strange and-- overwhelming and she’s weightless now, lost in the light from inside that is fighting to pour out of her and, and- _

_ “Adora!” Her eyes snap open but she can barely see through the blue haze of her vision. She can’t break through the fog, is only aware of the way the leaves of the trees and moss on the rocks glow brighter, the way the ground reverberates with an energy that pushes her up, the magic now transparent in a way she didn’t know was possible. Adora can feel the swell of it all in her own chest, wants to let it consume her, and Catra- _

_ Catra is terrified. She’s frozen, unable to tear her eyes away from Adora. A yellow glow surrounds her, but it’s nothing compared to the blue light radiating from her eyes. Then Camille jumps down from the top of her head and Catra watches as they crawl towards Adora with a single minded focus and finds that their eyes are shining with the same light as Adora’s.  _

_ She hesitates for a beat, straightening herself out and taking in a nervous breath, and then pauses again when she catches sight of Adora’s feet no longer touching the ground and decides that yeah, this has gotten way out of hand. _

_ She stomps her way up to Adora, doing her absolute best to swallow down her own fear to save Adora from the weird princessy magic stuff that’s stealing her away and she hasn’t figured out how she’s going to do it by the time she’s standing in front of her, her neck craned up higher than it ever has been to see Adora, so she does the only thing that she can think of in the span of those ten seconds.  _

_ She slaps Adora across the face with all the force that she can muster, which- is quite a lot, she notes proudly.  _

_ Adora blinks once, twice, before her eyes regain their natural blue hue, and before Catra can so much as blink herself, she’s being toppled over. She falls with a loud ‘oof’ and Adora fully draped over her.  _

_ “Adora,” she wheezes, pushing at Adora’s shoulders. She’s being crushed under her weight and is certain that the lack of oxygen will end up killing her in three, two, one-- _

_ “Mmph,” Adora rolls off of her slowly and Catra groans in response to the pressure at her ribs before sitting up with a hand to her chest, inhaling and exhaling in quick succession in a dramatic fashion. Adora lays beside her, stock-still and looking like she’s seen her own death. Catra waits in silence, watching Adora’s mouth gape with a quiet sort of patience that feels as though it’ll snap at any moment, and just as she thinks she can’t take it any longer, Adora breathes out a quiet and dumbfounded, "wow". _

_ “What. Was. That.”  _

_ “I- I don’t-” Adora sits up slowly. She looks down at her own hands and then up at Catra with a fear in her eyes that doesn’t match the small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. _

_ Catra jumps at her, sitting between her outstretched legs. “When did you learn to do that?” she yells excitedly, then with a pout and a shove at Adora’s shoulders, “And why didn’t you tell me!” _

_ “Ow, Catra!” Adora groans, “I didn’t even know I could do that!” _

_ “Can you teach me? Please?” Catra holds Adora’s face in her hands, squeezing her cheeks almost painfully while Adora struggles to swat her hands away. “Huh! Wait!” Catra gasps, “Does this mean you’re a princess? Is that why your eyes always do that stupid twinkle when we’re sparring? Or why your hair is super shiny? Or why-- Oh, wait! Are princesses even pretty? Or do you secretly look like a goblin?” _

_ “Catra,” Adora mumbles, exasperated as Catra tilts her head side to side, nose to nose with her captor as she smudges the skin of her cheeks with her thumbs as if her skin will turn up green if she uses enough force. She’s not completely wrong, if the bruising she’s beginning to feel counts as evidence for Catra's bizarre accusations. Adora catches her wrists in each hand and yanks them away from her face. “Catra, stop, that hurts! And I’m not a princess. I mean… right? There’s no way I could be a princess!” _

_ Catra sits back with her arms crossed, studying Adora with an intensity that makes Adora’s cheeks burn with nervous anticipation. “Well, that depends,” she states.  _

_ Adora swallows down the lump in her throat. “On what?” _

_ Catra drops the ominous facade and shrugs at her. “I don’t know! Did you feel evil?” _

_ “Um… no? No, I didn’t feel evil. Did I look evil?” _

_ Catra shakes her head no. “Well, what did I look like?” Adora asks.  _

_ Catra isn’t sure how to explain it; she isn’t sure how to put into words the fact that Adora looked ethereal, like she swallowed every bit of glowing magic around them until only she was golden. She doesn’t know how to tell her that the luminous blue of her eyes looked like a beacon of hope or that it felt like it was radiating directly into her chest, filling her with a glow brighter and warmer than the sun, so she just settles on, “too bright”. _

_ Adora contemplates for a long moment. Only princesses have magic and if Adora does too, doesn’t that make her a princess? And if all princesses are evil, does that not mean Adora herself is evil? She doesn't know what it means but she is determined to figure it out. _

_ “I think I have to tell Shadow Weaver. She might know what’s wrong with me.” _

_ “What? No! Adora, you know what she’ll do if she finds out we were out here!” There’s genuine fear in her eyes and Adora doesn’t miss the way her tail rises behind her, panic rustling Catra's hair further.  _

_ “Catra, it’s okay! I’ll tell her it was my idea, okay? She won’t hurt you.” _

_ Catra wraps her arms around herself and pinches her eyes shut. “You don't know that. And so what if you’re a princess? You’re nothing like the others. You grew up here, with me. Maybe you can just use your magic in secret to help the Horde win.” _

_ “I don’t think it’s going to be that easy, Catra. If I tell Shadow Weaver, she’ll probably help me learn how to use it or, or get rid of it if I have to."  _

_ “No, she won’t! She hates princesses and if she finds out you’re one of them, she’s going to send you away! Adora, please!” _

_ “But I have to know what’s happening to me!” _

_ It goes on like this for a while, both of them arguing with no intention of succumbing to the other’s will, and before long Catra grows frustrated and impatient and shoves Adora to the ground. She’s always found it easier to let her anger out in a physical manner- Adora's gotten used to it. _

_ Catra starts running and it comes as a surprise when Adora, for the first time in her life, catches up to her and tackles her to the ground. _

_ “Get off of me!” she hisses, voice catching in her throat as she chokes back a sob, and Adora moves away quickly, afraid she’s pushed Catra too far.  _

_ “I’m sorry,” she whispers, mouth tugging down into a frown as Catra curls into herself and begins crying into her arms. “I won’t tell her. Okay?” She scoots closer, wrapping an arm around Catra’s shoulders. “I won’t tell her about the magic. I promise.” _

_ Catra eventually falls into Adora’s embrace, sniffling and wishing the stone in the pit of her stomach would go away, but it settles there. Catra's come to the realization that all of the terrible and uncomfortable feelings hide there, waiting, it seems like. _

_ Adora waits for Catra's tears to slow and breathing to even out before looking to Catra with another one of her stupidly hopeful smiles and suggesting they race back to the Fright Zone. There's a slight tremble to Catra's lips even as she nods her agreement, eyes wide and shiny with tears as she looks up at Adora.  _

_ "I'll even let you win," Adora teases, just to see Catra's expression transition from befuddlement to the firm and cocky confidence that transforms Catra's mouth into Adora's favorite smirk. _

_ "As if you could," Catra refutes, rubbing away the tears from her eyes before shoving Adora to the ground once again and holding her down. "Last one there has to do the other's chores." _

_ Adora rolls her eyes. She's always done Catra's chores regardless, but figures there's no point in arguing with the insufferable kitten that's gotten a little too comfortable besting Adora at all of her rigged challenges. _

_ She shoots Catra a cocky smirk of her own before she lifts her head quickly and kisses the freckles at her nose. Catra sits back on her heels, all rosy cheeked and flustered. _

_ "You're on," Adora accepts, using Catra's momentary distraction to her advantage as she rolls out from under her and takes a head start. _

_ Catra shakes herself out of a daze and swallows down the flutter in her tummy that is most likely informing her of her breakfast's escape plan. Nothing to worry about; Catra is more than capable of holding down a couple of ration bars, thank you very much. _

_ She sprints and it isn't long before she's outrun Adora. _

_ By the time they reach the Fright Zone, they've made a wordless agreement to pretend the discovery of Adora's magic ability was nothing more than a figment of their imagination. Catra doesn't feel the need to remind Adora to keep it quiet; she believes without a shadow of a doubt that Adora isn't planning on telling anyone, much less Shadow Weaver.  _

_ Adora promised.  _

_ And Adora never breaks a promise. _

_ >>> _

_ Adora doesn't have to tell Shadow Weaver; she already knows.  _

_ She shares her conspiracies, her schemes- tells Adora all about her shadow spies, that Adora's magic must be kept a secret until she's come up with a surefire way to utilize and combine it with her own dark magic. _

_ And Catra can only watch- a few feet in the air, body pulsing painfully with the dark magic Shadow Weaver casts upon her in angry red shocks- as Adora is tied down to a metal table with Shadow Weaver's hands framing her face, screaming in agony as the electric shock of maroon lightning reverberates through her skull. _

_ She doesn't stop even after Adora faints from the pain. Catra watches, helpless, as Adora's body twitches uncontrollably, tears streaming down two little faces.  _

_ When Shadow Weaver completes the spell, she stalks over to Catra and lowers her to the ground slowly with a single flick of her wrist. _

_ "You will not speak of this again." Her voice is low and menacing, cold and eerily calm in a way Catra's always feared. Shadow Weaver curls her fingers into a fist, intensifying the excruciating vibration of energy thrumming through Catra's entire body and forcing out an almost-silent scream that buzzes painfully through her teeth. "I suggest you forget this day even happened, because I never want to hear a word out of your worthless mouth about the events that have taken place today." _

_ "This is your fault," she continues, "and if you ever so much as think of telling Adora, I will dispose of you before you've even gotten the chance. Have I made myself clear?" _

_ Catra can barely move- even her tears sting, drowning her vision in a sea of red and black, and it hurts to speak, but she manages a weak and quivering, "yes".  _

_ "Good," Shadow Weaver releases her and turns away quickly. Catra falls to her knees, trembling and gasping quietly. "Make sure you finish your chores before you head off to bed tonight. Adora's as well. The poor thing will sleep through the rest of the night, I'm afraid." _

_ Catra's heart aches painfully at the sight of an unconscious Adora, fidgeting, still, with eyebrows pinched low and hair damp with sweat. There's a stone atop her chest now, crushing her with the weight of her own guilt and blocking the airflow to her lungs. _

_ It hurts. It hurts so much she almost wishes she could replace it with the pain of Shadow Weaver's dark magic. Almost.  _

_ Catra doesn't sleep in Adora's bunk- she doesn't sleep at all. She struggles to forget the look of pure torment clouding Adora's usual bright-eyed optimism and finds herself wishing she'd convinced her instead to run away from the Horde. She hides beneath her blanket, whimpering as quietly as she can manage, and tries to replace the memory of this day with visions of a future where Adora isn't tortured for being a princess.  _

_ She pictures them both living in the woods, where they wouldn't have to think about Shadow Weaver or evil princesses, and with every image of Adora's tortured face, Catra creates a new fantasy, redoubling her efforts until she's almost convinced that Adora is laying beside her in the luminous grass, hand in hand while Adora manipulates the particles of magic around them, creating an impenetrable aura of safety that surrounds them. _

_Her tears finally slow and Lonnie, kept_ _awake all night by the sound of Catra's cries, sighs in relief at the silence that follows._

_ The next morning, Adora finds Catra hiding in the top bunk. She climbs up the ladder and shoots a wide, toothy grin at Catra after pulling the blanket away from her face. _

_ "Hey, what are you doing up here?" she laughs. Catra startles for a moment, unsure of whether her mind is playing tricks on her or not, before launching herself at Adora, almost knocking her off the ladder completely before Adora catches herself with one hand on the railing. Catra wraps her arms around her neck and buries her face in Adora's chest. _

_ "Are you okay?" she croaks, voice rough and scratchy from a sleepless night. Adora pulls her away gently and frowns in concern at the sight of Catra's red, puffy eyes. She smoothes down the mess that is Catra's hair steadily and Catra relaxes, hands sliding down from around Adora's neck in favor of clutching at the cotton of her shirt. _

_ "Yeah, I'm okay," Adora murmurs, and, god, Catra's relieved to find that Adora sounds the same. She even feels the same and smells the same and Catra's never been so happy to see Adora's hair poof in perfect place. She squeezes her eyes shut when the tears threaten to spill over again. "Are you okay?" _

_ "W-what did Sh-Shadow Weaver tell you?" she asks instead.  _

_ In lieu of response, Adora climbs into bed and cradles Catra in her arms wordlessly. Adora's hand finds its way through the maze of Catra's hair, scratching softly at her scalp, and Catra wraps her tail around her wrist tightly, unable to pay any mind to the fierceness of her grip. Adora doesn't complain.  _

_ They stay that way for a while, chests rising and falling together as they breathe in unison. The heaviness of dream air begins to coat her lungs like syrup and Catra is powerless to stop it, eyes almost completely glued shut when she feels more than hears Adora whisper against her head. _

_ "I forgive you." _

_ She burrows herself deeper into Adora's chest, seeking out the warmth that she hopes will melt away the pain of yesterday.  _

  
  
  
  
  


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